The Three Temptations of Sam Winchester
by TomiSama04
Summary: Sam knew his Greek mythology. He knew this Greek myth, and when Zeus held out the Golden Apple, Sam actually laughed. [Samifer, Destiel]


Samifer Week #1: Sunday, October 13, 2013

**The Three Temptations of Sam Winchester**

Pairings: Samifer (SamxLucifer), Destiel (DeanxCastiel)  
Ratings: Explicit  
Warnings: Praise!Kink, sex  
Words: 7670  
My Tumblr: talesfromperdition

For Georgia (msbrokenbrightside) for her constant help, support, and praise. I wouldn't have finished this week without her.

Notes: If Sam's forgiveness is out of character, imagine that he never had Hallucifer to deal with.

* * *

The second Sam opened his eyes, he knew he was still dreaming.

First, Zeus was dead – he hadn't died all that long ago, either – and while the Winchesters died and came back semi-regularly, the things they killed tended to stay dead. And even if, occasionally, a vampire came back from purgatory or a demon crawled out of hell after an exorcism, it didn't usually happen so close to their death date. No, Zeus was dead and not standing in front of Sam.

Second, the place where they were wasn't a room; it was more of a vaguely room-shaped box of light. He knew he'd been at the bunker, and he was a light sleeper. Zeus wouldn't be able to make it past the bunker's defenses, let alone make it into Sam's room without him waking up. While the god would have been able to create a box of light for them to have their little chat, it wasn't really Zeus' style if, you know, he was still alive in the first place.

Third, Sam knew his Greek mythology. He knew _this_ Greek myth, and when Zeus held out the Golden Apple, Sam actually laughed.

"I want you to give this apple to…"

"Yeah, I know," Sam said. "_To the fairest_. I'll tell you how the story ends. They're going to bribe Paris, and he's going to choose Aphrodite. He'll steal Helen from Menelaus and he'll bring her back to Troy and then Menelaus and Agamemnon'll launch a thousand ships to get her back. I'd go into the details of the Trojan War, but I'm sure you know what happened."

Even as Sam spoke, three figures approached from the distance. They remained in shadow, silhouetted by the light, but the hunter could tell something was wrong. Each shape looked familiar – he knew he should be able to recognize each figure by the outline alone – but his mind kept a block on who each of them were. The two to the left were women; the one on the left was a lot taller than the one in the middle, more than five inches. The man on the right stood even taller than the women – but shorter than Sam – and all three of them stood in the same position: feet shoulder width apart with their hands behind their back. They remained silent, and despite the fact that Sam's heart was hammering in his chest, he couldn't remember who they were.

Sam's hand balled into a fist, and he frowned at Zeus. The god smiled, then shook his head. "You're right about Paris, but these aren't his temptations, Sam. They're yours. These are three people who – at one point in your life – were important to you, but who are now gone. I will help you save one of them."

The younger Winchester scanned over the three shadows once again. His mind skipped over people who were important to him – his mom, his brother – but he knew it couldn't be them. The mere fact he could remember who they were proved that. Looking over the shadows again, he knew he should be able to name them by the shape of their bodies alone. In particular, his eyes lingered over the tall girl at the left, and his heart was in his throat.

He let himself have a moment, mourning a shadow he couldn't place, before he turned back to Zeus. He still held out the Golden Apple, a wicked grin on his face. People didn't do this to him. They didn't offer to help, offer to save someone Sam must have cared about. Then, a part of him snapped back into reality.

He was dreaming.

Zeus was dead, these people – whoever they were – would not be saved. He was exhausted and sleep deprived, still healing from the trials, and his mind was giving him a particularly aggravating dream. For a moment, he tried to wake up. He could almost see the lights dim, but he couldn't pull himself from the dream.

He looked at the tall girl, the short girl, and the man. They made his heart ache in his chest, whoever they were, and of course even his subconscious wanted him in pain. This wasn't real – nobody would be saved by Zeus – but his body was too weak to wake up. It wasn't like he really had a choice. Sam took three steps forward and grabbed the Golden Apple. The short girl and man disappeared, and after a grin, Zeus disappeared too.

The room started to fade, and the shadow lifted and Sam recognized her. He called out to her, ran toward her, but the room went black before he could reach her.

"_Jessica!"_

* * *

It was the bar. It was the bar they went to the night Dean came back, and the two of them left to find their dad. It was the last time he saw Jessica before she was pinned to the ceiling, gutted, and set on fire.

Jess was standing next to him, wearing the nurse's outfit that Sam hadn't remembered being so short. His friend was there too, dressed like a zombie and Sam couldn't remember his name for the life of him. It wasn't Brady. Whenever he remembered this moment when he was awake, it was always Brady with them.

His memory was wrong. Or maybe his dream was. He wasn't sure.

"Here's to Sam and his awesome LSAT victory," Jess said, raising the shot.

Sam looked up at her, amazed. He knew he was supposed to say something, but he didn't remember what and he couldn't think of it with the way Jess was looking down at him, smiling at him, loving him.

"He acts all humble," Jess went on. "But he scored a 174."

"Is that good?" their friend asked.

"Scary good," Jess replied.

Sam looked, but the apple was gone. There was a whine – a desperate, high thing – that erupted from his throat. He didn't need to see the other two people. He didn't need any other fake temptation. He wanted to bring Jess back, if only in his dreams.

He reached out to her, touched her arm, and something shattered.

The memory – played back so often in Sam's head – slowed to a halt. The music stopped; the people moving in the background stopped. It was only him and Jessica looking at each other. For a moment, he thought she was frozen, too, but then she smiled.

Sam smiled back.

"If the pot isn't sweet enough," she said, reaching her hand up to touch his face. He leaned into her touch, her palm sliding over his cheek. A look down at himself proved that he didn't fit the memory – he was thirty with his hair too long and his post-trial body too weak and pale and she was still twenty-two, young and beautiful as ever – but he couldn't be bothered. He didn't care about their age or that this was a dream. He could _feel_ her hand on his cheek. That was all that mattered. "We can go back."

"Go back where?"

Jessica laughed at him, pushing him away playfully. "Back to school, silly. Law school. There's a college not far from the Men of Letter's base, Sam. I know you looked into it. If you choose me, I'll talk to Dean. You can enroll. You can still be a lawyer, Sam. It isn't too late."

Sam thought about it, about what his young girlfriend would look like sharing his room in the bunker. He thought about Jessica and Dean bantering over breakfast before the Jess and Sam went to class. He thought about spending his nights backing Dean up from base with his law books open by his side. He thought about Jess tending Castiel's wounds after a hunt when Dean was too busy nursing his own, and he thought about Jess laughing with Charlie, reading with Kevin.

He could see it so perfectly. In his mind, everything looked solid.

But it was fake, an illusion. And the second he thought past what he wanted, he could see Jess and Dean screaming at each other when Sam had to miss class to help Dean with a hunt. He could see the way Jess would leave Castiel's room defeated when he refused – as he refused twenty times before – to be helped. Charlie would throw Sam looks behind Jessica's back, wondering what he did to bring her back. She would be closer to Kevin's age than Sam's.

Jessica wasn't a hunter. Sam couldn't bring her into that life, just like he knew that as much as he wanted to give it up, he would never really be able to.

Not that it mattered. It was all a dream, anyway.

Sam forced himself to give her a smile – he'd gotten really good at faking them – and she didn't even notice that it wasn't real. He never had to fake them around her before. She leaned forward, kissing him just briefly on the lips.

"Remember me, Sam," she murmured, pushing something into his hand. The bar began to fade again, until only Jess and Sam were still in the light. She pushed her lips against his again, and then she was gone in the darkness too.

* * *

When the lights snapped on again, he was sitting with a lap full of someone who was attacking his mouth. He was filled with rage, a little bit of disgust, but he was undeniably turned on. Kissing the girl, Sam could almost forget the tears still in his eyes from leaving Jess just a moment ago. He could almost forget that he was supposed to be already having a dream, but this was easier. Sex meant he didn't have to think.

His eyes were shut, but his hands went of their own accord to the girl's sides to pull her shirt up and off. She gasped, and Sam's eyes flew open.

Ruby kept her hands in his hair, but she opened her eyes too, and grinned at him. "Hey, Sam."

Sam stood, and for one moment, Ruby clung to him. Her grin wasn't anything like what Ruby had looked like back then, when she was trying to convince him that she remembered being human, and she let go, stepping down, removing her borrowed body from Sam, but keeping it close.

The younger Winchester pushed past her. He had forgotten how short she was, and how, despite the height difference, she seemed so much bigger than him.

"Aw, c'mon, Sam. I knew she'd pick your last memory together. Can you blame me for picking the best?"

"The best?" Sam said from across the room. He was pacing the length of the bed they hadn't used that night. At least, not right away, and he wanted to get out of here. He wanted to go back to Jess.

"Well, you're right. We had a lot of great times together. But this one was fun."

He looked up at her, a scoff pushing out of his open mouth, but she was still smiling. She was confident. But she had just been pretending to be anything else. He hated her. He hated the way she used him for her own purposes. He hated the way she stood there, grinning at him.

He hated that his mind would even include her in the same category as Jess, as someone he would be tempted to save. At that, Sam put his head down, looking instead to the floor. He heard Ruby laugh and he hated her.

"Sam, I'm flattered really. I mean, Sarah Blake pretty much just died and you still thought to bring me back over her. You're exactly as selfish as I knew you could always be," she moved closer to him, and he pushed her away. She didn't even stumble. She just laughed. "All I ever wanted for you was to realize your potential. All I wanted for me was my just reward."

"You're a monster."

"So are you: the boy with the demon's blood," she said, and when she leaned toward him again, he didn't push her away. He could feel her against him, and her body was just as familiar as Jess'. Maybe, he knew Ruby even better. She hadn't ever been shy or polite. She wouldn't have faked it with him. She would just instruct him – no, no, do this instead; yes, Sam, right there, just like that, do that again – and he was flushing at the memories, then flushing a bit more with anger for remembering them fondly.

Even in the privacy of his own head, he didn't let himself remember Ruby fondly. It was too dangerous. He'd be too likely to make the same mistake again if he romanticized their time together before her betrayal.

"Let me tempt you," she said, running her hand over his chest. "I bet your other girl did. I bet he will too. If you bring me back, we can pick up where we left off. And don't pretend you didn't love it when you cut me open and licked the blood from my skin. You enjoyed it, Sam, killing the demons and draining them dry. Dean really messed you up when he came back. But the Boy King doesn't need to listen to his brother. You make the rules, Sam. You're the one who will rule the world."

He looked down at her; he could hear the awe in her voice and see it on her face. She believed it. She believed in him. He did what he thought he had to do to kill Lilith, to stop the seals, to save everyone.

But, if he was honest, he wasn't always a martyr. He had enjoyed it. She wasn't lying.

And he could see himself, powerful from the blood, sitting on a throne made of bones, putting a demon in every human just so he could bleed them dry. He could see Ruby sitting next to him, on him, murmuring her praise of him, worshiping his body as the rightful king.

Denying Lucifer for _him._

Ruby grinned, but Sam stepped back, pulling away like he had been burned.

He couldn't deny that he had that darkness in him, that his soul was tainted and black. But there was good in him too, and he clung to that. He clung to the hope, and he remembered what Jess had loved about him, why Dean would die for him and sell his soul to bring him back, why his mother died walking into his nursery to check on him.

Sam clung to that, and he would never give the apple to Ruby. He would never save her.

For a moment, Ruby huffed, but then she rolled her eyes toward him again. She crossed her arms over her chest, and offered a bitter smile. "I would give you something too, but you've already got my knife. I hope that every time you stab a demon with it, the blood on the blade taunts you. You could have had everything, Sam."

The room faded to black as Ruby grabbed her coat and stormed out of the door.

* * *

When the room was bathed in light again, Sam sighed. The women had hurt him. He loved them – he had loved both of them – and he was hurt that he couldn't save Jess and that Ruby had betrayed him. He didn't care who the man was. He just wanted to wake up.

He could see the world shifting back to light in the darkness, but he sat down in the grass and refused to raise his head. He didn't care if this was a dream; he wasn't playing his subconscious' games anymore.

Sam Winchester would sit on the grass until his exhausted, dying body woke itself up on his bed in the bunker.

He felt the last person, the man, standing behind him. For a moment, Sam waited for him to speak, but when he didn't, Sam sighed. "You might as well sit down. I don't think I'll be able to wake up until I hear you out."

Even above the breeze, Sam could hear the man shift his foot in the dirt as if he were contemplating. For the life of him, Sam couldn't think of a man he would save – a man in the same category as Jess and Ruby – and despite his desire to give in and wake up, he was curious. There was another few seconds where the man didn't approach, but when he did, Sam closed his eyes so he couldn't catch a glimpse of him.

He was still trying to guess.

"I never thought I'd see you again. I'm pleased that I was wrong."

Sam's eyes snapped open, fear spreading through his body like poison in his blood. He looked up at Nick's calm body – he was wearing the jeans and green shirt he had been in when Sam had said yes in Detroit – and the spots where his Grace had burned through the vessel were present, but no worse than they had been. He was looking up at the sky, hands resting in his lap. Sam opened his mouth, then shut it again. Lucifer ignored the younger Winchester's gaping.

Eventually, Sam couldn't hold back anymore. He was afraid; this had to be a trick to let the devil out of the cage, and it was bad enough to deal with the pain of losing Jess again, reliving Ruby's betrayal… did he really have to be tempted by the devil? "Why would I possibly want to save you?"

Lucifer turned away from the sky. His eyes found Sam's for a brief moment before they scanned his face, taking in the years since they last seen each other.

The girls hadn't done that – not Jess, who hadn't seen him for eight years, nor did Ruby, who hadn't seen him for four – but Lucifer, the angel who had taken control of Sam's body for a brief period of time, studied Sam's face for every new wrinkle and scar.

When Lucifer's eyes found Sam's again, he shook his head. "You wouldn't."

"Then why are you here?"

"Technically, I'm still in the cage, but I know what you mean and I don't know. I think my father thinks it's funny," Lucifer turned his head away again. The clouds were passing overhead, and the archangel focused on them. "I think he likes to watch me suffer. I'm not going to let him aggravate me. I'll take the time I'm given and I'll be grateful. So tell me, what have you been up to?"

"Aren't you supposed to tempt me? The girls tried to promise me things."

"I was told to, but there is nothing I can say now that I didn't say to you then. I never lied to you, and I never would. I wouldn't trick you then, and I won't try to now. You only said yes last time to put me back in the cage, so I know my chances of being chosen now. And since you won't pick me, can't we just sit here for a while? Will you allow me to enjoy these few moments in your company?"

Sam watched Lucifer watch the sky. Just a moment ago, he had been terrified to find the devil sitting next to him. He knew he still should be, but the fear was gone. Instead, there was peace. Sam wanted to wake up, and Lucifer wanted to watch the clouds. They could pass the time together civilly.

And besides, it was just a dream. Even dreaming of the devil was bad, in Sam's experience, but he was tired of playing the game. So he let Lucifer have his moment; he told him what had been happening topside.

Sam told the archangel about Metatron and the angels falling and the trials and trying to cure Crowley. Lucifer was an attentive listener, and he seemed content to listen to Sam talk because when the human started trailing off, the archangel gave small prompts to keep him going. Sam had no idea how long they'd been sitting there, but it felt like much longer than he had with either of the girls.

It had been silent for almost a full minute after Sam finished his story about how his body was still suffering from the trials when Lucifer spoke up. He turned back to look at the human and asked, "Will you give the apple to Jess? I know how much you loved her."

Sam shrugged. "I don't know."

"What did she tempt you with?"

Sam frowned. "College. She'd make Dean let me go back. And Ruby… uh… the Boy King thing."

Next to him, Lucifer grimaced, but slowly, his expression turned blank, then something even more open. It added a lightness to him, a pleasant expression on Nick's attractive face, and Sam suddenly wondered what Lucifer looked like outside of Nick.

"Well," Lucifer said, holding out his hand. Sam held out his, and he felt something small and metallic slip into his hand. The room was already starting to fade, but Lucifer gave a very small, tentative smile. "It's not a temptation, but I'm still offering you something. I'm offering what the other two didn't, and I hope that you favor that as Paris had."

"What do you –"

But the room was black, and Lucifer was gone.

* * *

Sam frowned, that was a stupid, painful dream. He reached up to rub his hand over his eyes, when he realized he had something clenched tight in his palm.

He opened his eyes and sat up. It was a small, Brainy Smurf figurine.

Sam's blood froze in his veins. It had been a present from Jess. It had burned up in the fire.

The younger Winchester went to set it down on the stand by his bed when he saw a Golden Apple already sitting under the light.

Okay, maybe it hadn't been a dream.

Sam held up the other hand – warm metal was pressed against his palm – and when he peeled his fingers back to look, he dropped it on the bed with a yelp. The Four Horsemen's rings. The keys that closed Lucifer's cage must somehow open it again, too.

The hunter pulled the covers off the bed, put the rings in a drawer (but kept Jess' Smurf figurine sitting next to the Golden Apple), and he marched his way to the bathroom to take a shower, trying his hardest to clear his thoughts.

It was after Sam had washed his hair, but before the water turned cold yet, that he tried making sense of the dream. Zeus was dead; Sam was sure of it. Who would show up in Sam's dream – dressed as Zeus – and offer to bring someone back? It was a trap, right? Because he was given the way to let one of them out, but what would he have to do to bring Jess back? Put the apple on the grave?

And he _didn't_, but how would he go about bringing Ruby back?

He didn't have to bring any of them back, he was sure. He could keep the apple for himself and let Dean mock him with Mirror Mirror jokes for the rest of forever, but there was an ache in his heart – a pull – to rescue, and he didn't know why.

He thought about Jess, how beautiful she had been, young and hopeful, still pushing him to succeed with his education. And he thought about Ruby, how she could see that dark desire to rule and have power. And he thought about Lucifer…

And then it hit him. The temptations. Paris' temptations.

Athena had offered him wisdom, just like Jess had tempted him with college. Hera had offered Paris power, just like Ruby had tempted with demon blood. And Aphrodite… Lucifer said he was offering what the two girls hadn't. Lucifer was offering love.

He thought about what else Lucifer had said, how he wouldn't trick him, but this was a trick, wasn't it? How couldn't this be a trick?

Sam remembered the calm way Lucifer had looked at him, how he had just wanted to sit there and enjoy his company.

And maybe Sam overreacted – okay, he definitely overreacted – but he barely dried himself before he got dressed, grabbed the rings out of the drawer, and took the keys to the Impala. Dean wouldn't be up for hours anyway, and Sam needed to see. He needed to know.

He remembered something – something left over from Lucifer sharing his body – that he couldn't quite remember, something that made him ache with longing. It wasn't a trick, was it?

Skull cemetery wasn't too far away from the bunker, and Sam stood over the spot where he had dived into with Lucifer trapped inside him and breathed. This was stupid – it was ridiculous, crazy, suicidal even – but when he clenched the rings in his hands they were still warm.

His hands threw the rings down on their own accord, and just like that, the earth crumbled away again. For a moment, everything was still, but then, from the depths of the cage, a figure flew out. It was too fast for Sam to see, and once he was top side, Sam only caught a glimpse of the figure – two figures? – flying up into the sky before they were going too fast for Sam to see.

He held his breath, curses swimming in his head. He'd just let Lucifer out of the cage, and now he was free somewhere. How was he going to explain that to Dean?

"Hello, Sam," A voice said behind. Sam turned back to the cage, and Lucifer was picking up the keys after the cage closed. He stood back up, burns still present on his face as he stood back up. "I'm surprised to see you again."

"Why would you offer me love?" Sam demanded. "Where did you go just now?"

"That was Michael. He was bringing Adam back to heaven. You saved your little brother, you know," Lucifer said, taking a few hesitant steps toward the younger Winchester. He walked carefully, like he was trying not to spook a horse. He offered his hand to Sam. "Here."

Once again, the hunter held out his hand, accepting what Lucifer was giving him. It was the rings again. "Why?"

"In case you want to lock me back in there. I'll go, if you want me to, but I'd rather stay here with you and make good on my promise."

"You're still burning through him?" Sam asked, gesturing at the body. The archangel nodded, and Sam sighed.

"We don't have much time, but I will try my best to make it happy for you."

"Why?" Sam asked, and Lucifer looked mildly surprised, like he couldn't believe the hunter could ask him that.

"Because I love you," he stated simply, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it was. The archangel reached a hand out, touching Sam's face. The hunter twitched – his hands were cold – but otherwise let Lucifer's hand remain there. After another heartbeat, his other hand touched the other side of his face, and then, Lucifer's lips were pressed against Sam's.

It was probably a trick (but he said he wouldn't trick him, right?), but Sam couldn't help it. He kissed Lucifer back.

* * *

Dean was Not Happy. Initially, Castiel had been equally Not Happy, but after hearing bits and pieces of Lucifer and Michael's conversations over the angel radio, he relaxed and tried to convince Dean to do the same.

It didn't bother Lucifer, but he tried to make himself scarce anyway, often hiding in Sam's room, looking in the mirror, frowning at the burns on his face. The old ones looked worse, and the new ones were appearing much faster than they used to. He had been close to burning through Nick the first time, and it hadn't gotten any better in the cage.

Lucifer had been there for two days – almost entirely confined to Sam's bedroom – when the hunter saw the Golden Apple on the bed stand and said, "I forgot to give you that."

"What?" Lucifer asked, turning away from the mirror, a frown etched on his face somewhat permanently from constantly worrying about his vessel burning away.

Sam reached over from where he was lying on the bed and picked up the Golden Apple, tossing it to Lucifer. The archangel caught it effortlessly, and the second it made contact with his skin, there was an explosion of golden rays. It consumed Lucifer, and Sam got off the bed and called to him.

After a second, the light died down and revealed Lucifer, frowning at the apple as if it had done him a great injustice. Sam took in a sharp breath and hissed, "Turn around."

Lucifer didn't ask why. He just turned back around – facing the wall and the mirror – and dropped the apple to the ground, hands reaching up to touch his face. Nick's skin was clear. The vessel was containing his grace as effortlessly as Sam would have or Jimmy had contained Castiel.

"He said save someone," Sam said, walking over to Lucifer, wrapping his arms around the smaller body. "I rescued you earlier from the cage, but he said he could _save_ you for me. The apple _saved_ you."

"I understand," Lucifer said, a smile playing on the corners of his mouth, trying to get Sam from spewing more Winchester logic at him. The archangel turned around, facing Sam again, and let his hands cup Sam's face once again. "Thank you for saving me."

"You won't make me regret it, will you?"

"I hope not," Lucifer said, but then his hands fell to Sam's shoulders, trailing down his chest, stopping at his hips. Even though Sam was dressed, it felt like Lucifer was peering past the layers, and Sam twitched at the onslaught. "Would you allow me to tempt you now?"

"Tempt me? You already won."

"Yes," Lucifer said, licking his lips, eyes drawing back up to find Sam's. "But now I need to prove my worth so you will allow me to stay."

"You don't need to…"

"I _want_ to," Lucifer growled, pushing at Sam's hips until the hunter started walking backwards, legs hitting the bed, and tumbling back onto it. "I want you, if you'll allow me to."

"_Yes,"_ Sam said, only realizing what he'd said and how his consent might be taken after the fact. Lucifer, it seemed, had no interest in that. Instead, his cool fingers found Sam's stomach under his shirt, and in a matter of seconds, the shirt was up and off his head. Lucifer's mouth dropped to Sam's collarbone, kissing and sucking his thanks onto Sam's body.

The hunter's hand cupped the back of Lucifer's head, fingers running through the short hair, trying to keep the archangel's head at his chest. He couldn't keep him there, he knew, if Lucifer wanted to be anywhere else, but the archangel didn't seem to be in a hurry to move. His cool hands ran up and down Sam's sides, trailing over the muscles in his stomach, while his tongue circled around the hunter's nipple.

Sam arched his back, shoulders and hips digging into the bed to push his chest toward the archangel's mouth. Lucifer indulged him for a second, before his palms found Sam's ribs, pushing him back down to the mattress and holding him there.

They had kissed, the promise of love hanging tight on every press of lips and every brush of skin against skin, but they had never done this. They had never done more, and while Sam didn't know if the burns were painful for the archangel, they certainly had something to do with why the archangel hadn't pushed further than kissing before.

Lucifer moved lower, putting his nose against the bottom of Sam's ribs and inhaling. He turned his face, nuzzling against the soft skin and huffing cool puffs of breath against Sam's body.

Sam didn't even notice the fingers on his jeans, not after Lucifer nipped at Sam's hip, then tongued at the marks he'd left behind. He was only aware of the archangel's intentions after a soft growl was expelled from his throat, his face angling back up to Sam, and he tugged on the denim, unable to move it past Sam's hips with him lying on the bed.

"What?" Sam whispered, grin on his face. He knew what the archangel wanted, but he enjoyed the other's voice. Lucifer's eyes narrowed, dark with lust uncharacteristic on his usually stoic face. "Tell me what you want."

For a moment it was silent, a power struggle that the archangel didn't want to lose, but ultimately, he gave up, looking back down at Sam's stomach when he said. "I could will them away, but I want to see my hands removing your clothes before I take you in my mouth and pleasure you to the brink of orgasm, only to pause, allow you time to regain your composure, before…" Lucifer paused. "One of us enters the other, although on that front I'm not picky. Whichever you'd rather; we'll have time to switch back and forth – if that is what you want – later."

"Wow, I didn't mean…" Sam said, digging his heels into the mattress to lift his hips. Lucifer pulled the jeans and the underwear down together, shucking them to the side, complete focus on Sam's body. He started running his palms up and down Sam's thighs, and it wasn't until his eyes found Sam's face again that the hunter realized he was waiting for Sam to finish what he had started saying. "I didn't mean you had to do _that_. I just wanted to hear you demand I lift my hips up."

"I won't demand anything of you, ever," Lucifer said, bringing his face down to suck a mark onto Sam's thigh. The hunter writhed, leg twitching. After the archangel pulled back, apparently satisfied with the bruise against Sam's flesh, he looked back up at Sam. "I only want what you are willing to give me."

"Fuck, Lucifer," Sam groaned, only to have the sound morph in his throat as Lucifer took him in his mouth with no preamble or warning.

Sam had had his fair share of lovers in the past, and he knew practiced talent when felt it. He also knew a quick study – those who had watched the act done, and was enthusiastic about the task at hand, but didn't have any actually done it before – and Lucifer, he could tell, was in the second category. Everything was too precise – the grip of his hand on Sam's cock, the steady cadence of his bobs in a constant tempo, no experimentation with his tongue or with his wrist – and it was good, it was _really_ good, but it was a rush. Lucifer was trying (and succeeding) to get him from point A to point B too quickly, as if the end was the most important part of the ride, and not the journey.

"Slow down," Sam begged through his teeth, and Lucifer stilled instantly. "Work me up to it."

Lucifer's hand stayed on his cock, tugging at it without thought or purpose, movements slicked with saliva, and Sam's toes curled. The archangel had been frowning, a half-formed response about not understanding died on his tongue as he watched the reaction the slow, teasing strokes had on the younger Winchester.

"Oh," Lucifer whispered. "You didn't want to rush."

"You got somewhere you'd rather be?" Sam asked, eyes opening just a slit to find Lucifer's in the bedroom.

The archangel shook his head. "This is the only place I want to be."

"What," Sam asked with a grin. "Having sex?"

"By your side," Lucifer amended. "What would you like me to do?"

Images flashed through Sam's mind before he could control them and pin it down with one simple request. He could picture coming from just Lucifer's hands, his fingers, his mouth. He pictured thrusting into the archangel until Lucifer came messily across his chest, and he pictured the slow roll of Lucifer's hips as he brushed Sam's hair away from his face, kissing him as he came inside him.

Lucifer licked his lips, and Sam didn't realize he had been projecting.

"Take off your clothes," Sam demanded first, and Lucifer had no problems following orders without question. As he pulled down his clothes, Sam dug in the stand by the bed, grabbing bottle of lubricant. When Lucifer crawled back onto the bed, Sam opened his legs, and Lucifer sat between them, hands finding Sam's thighs once again.

"And now?" The archangel asked. Sam pushed the bottle toward him.

"You'll have to go slow," the hunter warned. "And be gentle, at least at first. Don't be efficient, Lucifer, it isn't a race. Just take your time and try to enjoy it."

Sam could see the questions on Lucifer's face, but he didn't ask. He just nodded, and when Sam settled into his back, Lucifer turned his attention to the bottle in his hand. For a moment, Sam thought the archangel was going to direct his questions to the bottle of lubricant, but then, the archangel popped the cap, poured some on his fingers, and smeared some against Sam's hole with the pad of his thumb.

He didn't try to push in, he just watched Sam's face for a moment, and then he took Sam's cock in his other hand before taking it in his mouth once more.

This didn't have the same control and precision as before; instead, Lucifer's actions on Sam were less focused as the angel teased Sam's hole with his index finger before the human relaxed enough to slip the finger in. The archangel drew his head back – still stroking Sam with his hand – to watch his finger enter Sam's body, and he made a small noise at the back of his throat.

Sam answered him with a groan.

It took a while to work up to two fingers, and even longer to three, but by the time Sam was ready for Lucifer's cock, he was a sweaty, writhing mess, and he wouldn't be able to give Lucifer any verbal guidance unless it consisted of short, breathless demands.

When the archangel's fingers pressed against his prostate, Sam whined, reaching his hands out to burry in Lucifer's hair, trying to pull him up to kiss him. When the archangel wouldn't move, Sam opened his eyes. Lucifer had an awed expression on his face. He cleared his throat and asked, "Will you do this to me next time?"

"_Yes,"_ Sam groaned again. "Kiss me."

Sam was desperate, and he knew it would translate through the rough kiss. He looped an arm around Lucifer's shoulders, trying to keep the archangel there, and when he felt Lucifer's fingers pull away, he heard the cap open once more. He only let Lucifer escape the kiss to slick himself up before he pulled Lucifer back in, focusing on the kiss as he felt the archangel's cock push against his hole.

He was gentle – he was always gentle and careful with Sam – as he pushed in. He kept stopping, letting Sam adjust what felt like every few centimeter, and by the time he was fully in Sam, the hunter was clawing at the archangel's back. But still, he waited, and he let Sam adjust.

Finally, after Sam started begging, Lucifer started moving, and it was more than Sam could take.

He couldn't be sure – he was pretty lost in the pleasure at this point – but he was sure Lucifer wasn't fucking him like any human would have. Lucifer's constant attention remained on Sam, taking in his every facial feature, his every reaction to the thrust, doing more of it when Sam had enjoyed it and adjusting something when something other than jolts of pleasure crossed his features.

It was too much, and Sam was going to come years before Lucifer would at this rate – was the archangel even enjoying himself? – Sam had to remedy that.

"What do you need?" Sam asked through hushed breaths, lifting his head to nip at Lucifer's shoulder.

"Nothing," Lucifer breathed, a cool puff against Sam's cheek. "This is… I like this. This feels good, Sam."

"_You_ feel good, Lucifer," Sam said, and suddenly, the archangel's hips shot forward, rougher and less controlled than they had been, and the sound Lucifer gave was much louder than all the other sounds of pleasure Sam had dragged from him before. Sam grinned. He could totally feed Lucifer's need for praise. "You're really good at this."

"Please, Sam," Lucifer cried out, pushing himself up on his arms effortlessly, changing the angle of his thrusts and pushing down into Sam with purpose. With space between their bodies, Sam used a hand to pull at his own cock. Just like that, the archangel was catching up, and Sam wanted them to finish as close to each other as possible.

"You feel so good inside me," Sam breathed, and when Lucifer opened his eyes to look down – trying to see if Sam was telling the truth or not, probably – the hunter saw how dark Lucifer's eyes were. It was like he didn't believe it, and Sam needed to remedy any insecurities the angel had about how _good_ he was. "You're doing so well. You're making this really good for me. And you're so beautiful. You're very good…"

Lucifer cried out, leaning down to press his lips against Sam to cut off the praise. Sam didn't realize the archangel was coming until Lucifer was shaking with his orgasm, slowing his movements as he was overwhelmed with the feeling of it. It only took Sam a handful of tugs on his own cock before he was following suit, coming on his own belly and chest.

The archangel sighed, pulling out and lowering his head to rest against Sam's collarbone, and for a long moment, they just rested there. Despite the power behind his first orgasm, Lucifer was an archangel and he recovered first, pulling a washcloth out of nowhere and cleaning the human before he cleaned himself. Sam opened his eyes, taking in the sex hair and blue eyes, grinning to himself.

When Lucifer settled back down at Sam's side, the hunter gathered the archangel in his arms. After a moment, Sam was almost asleep, but Lucifer roused him with a question.

"Next time, we'll switch?"

"Sure," Sam said. "If you want that."

"I want everything with you," Lucifer said, falling silent once more.

It took a while for Sam to realize he said _with_ and not _from_, but by the time he did, the archangel was already asleep.

* * *

If Dean was Not Happy before, he was Completely Livid now, and Sam didn't know why. The bunker was soundproof – he knew because he never heard Dean and Castiel going at it – and he used to _all the time_ back before the angel fell between the thin motel walls.

Lucifer was in the shower – something he had grown to love in the two days he'd been topside – and Castiel was in the library, leaving the Winchesters alone in the kitchen.

Dean pointed an accusing finger at Sam and declared, "I hate you."

"What the hell did I do?"

"Cas and I were… you know… _engaging in activities_ when all of the sudden he just completely clammed up and wouldn't keep going," Dean frowned. "It took forever for him to tell me why, but guess what got his panties in a twist?"

"He probably looked at your face," Sam said, pouring a cup of coffee.

"Your fucking boyfriend was _broadcasting_ over the angel radio, Sam. Every angel in existence heard him fucking you!"

Sam spilled some coffee from the pot onto the counter, but managed to regain control and find the coffee cup again. His face was red – he could feel the warmth spreading over his neck and chest – and when he turned around to apologize, Lucifer was standing in the doorway, his hair still wet.

"Don't you cockblock us again, you asshole," Dean scowled as he stormed out of the kitchen, but it was halfhearted, Sam could tell, and he couldn't help but smile as he cleaned up the coffee he spilled on the counter. He hadn't yelled at Lucifer for having sex with Sam, just that they had caused an inconvenience for the other two. That was practically a welcome mat for Dean.

Lucifer looked guilty when his eyes met Sam's. "I'm sorry," he admitted. "I forget that they can hear me, as they never answer me back when I talk to them. I'll hold back next time; I can block them from hearing."

"It's fine," Sam said, pouring Lucifer a cup and holding the mug out to him. "You know, I bet you'll like it."

"Like what?"

Sam grinned, leaning closer to Lucifer. Dirty talk wasn't usually in his repertoire; it seemed like Dean's forte more than his. But he knew it had some effect on the archangel, even though he wasn't willing to wonder why. "I bet you'll like my cock inside you. You'll look so pretty – flushed and begging for it – and I bet you'll take it so good. You'll do a good job of opening up and letting me in, won't you? You're such a _good_ boy."

Lucifer's eyes were huge, and he set his coffee mug on the counter before leaning in and kissing Sam.

It didn't last long, though. From the library, Dean yelled, "Jesus _fucking _Christ, you two! Do I need to take you outback and spray you with a hose, because I _fucking _will."

"Sorry," Lucifer whispered against Sam's lips, but the hunter just grinned.

"You know how many times I had to hear him throughout my life? Payback's a bitch. Let them hear."

Lucifer groaned, wrapping his arms around Sam's waist, and the hunter gave in to temptation.


End file.
